In the midst of the battle
by Lady Weird
Summary: Death eaters were in every single part of the castle. And he was running, his legs going numb, dragging her along with him, screaming all the spells he knew of.


**Hey everyone, Lady weird's in the plaaaace ! This is actually the first time that I write a Ron/Hemione story. I hope you'll like it.**

**Kind : Missing moment.**

**Time : The battle of Hogward, Harry's missing, before Voldemort speech about Harry's death.**

**I want to dedicate this to my friend Victoria; girl, you're amazing, sorry for not talking to you this week; And to one of my best friends ( If not my favorite girl best friend) who shares the same name as me; If you ever read this, this is for you; You're the_ BEST_, ( F² rules ;D )**

**The rightful owner of the Harry Potter universe is the talented : J.K. Rowling**

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><p><strong>In the heart of the battle.<strong>

Death eaters were everywhere, violating every inch of the castle that had held between its walls centuries of great history and knowledge. They were everywhere in sight, dueling against the students of all age, the young of those last, in a raw impulse of bravado, courage and instinctive need to fight, broke free from the escaping procedure, and were harshly throwing spells and hexes toward the enemies, guided by the light of their greatest straight and greatest weakness : their hope.

Rays of light, mostly red and green, were thrown in all directions, destroying the statues and gargoyles which were faithfully fighting against the dark force, assuming their responsibility of protecting the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The darkness was overwhelming, the suffocating smell of blood and death, the agonizing screams, the dust and smoke were making it more and more difficult to battle. To protect. To resist. To survive. Acrumantulas were dispersed in the castle and park. They were making a horrible high-pitched sound when crashed by the giants that generally were just destroying everything in sight: allies and enemies.

It was a fight for freedom, equality, and simply for a future. Each one, with a tight grip of their wand, repeated, in a rhythmic mantra, murmurs of self-encouragement and kept in mind the fictive images of an idealistic and brighter world, nourishing the fantasy that they wanted to make real no matter what it coasted. Every former student and teacher, which has changed into soldier, reacted to each blow with a more powerful one.

In the midst of this cruel and horrific massacre, a tall, blue eyed redhead was running in the dark corridors, dragging a relatively smaller brunette girl by her hand.

"Ron! Duck! " She screamed at the top of her lugs to win over the explosions around them.

They bent down at the same time, avoiding by little the deathly green ray of the Avada Kedavra spell that crashed where their heads previously were. The girl wanted to throw a hex behind her, but Ron was quicker, and carried by his rage and the adrenaline running freely in his veins, he shouted: "Stupefy!"

It hit the death eaters square in the forehead, and with a satisfied smirk, Ron resumed running. He pulled the girl along with him, and his voice shaken with worry, turning his stormy eyes toward her for a brief moment, he asked:

"Hermione, are you alright?"

Hermione nodded her head as he tightened his grip on her hand, his fire colored flying everywhere. He carried on running, scanning the corridors for eventual threats, his legs hurting him to death, the dust making it difficult to see, Hermione heavily panting behind him, out of breath, exhausted, following him with much trouble and tripping over rocks and holes. He just knew that he had to keep running, throwing all the spells that he knew of and popped up in his mind.

As shocking as it seemed, Ronald wasn't entirely focused on the battle, fighting out of instinct and reflex, too absorbed in his own thoughts. As the images around him seemed like they came from a particulary vivid and terrifying nightmeare, he started to somewhat loose his grip on reality, his brain storming and many thoughts haunting him: He firstly thought about Ginny, fighting somewhere in the dark, alone, exposed to deathly dangers. He felt his heart drop, his brotherly instincts kicking in, screaming to him that he should be protecting her. But how could he reach her in this mess?

He thought about Fred, who… died with a smile plastered on his face, the hollow of his joy and playfulness somewhat remaining in his blank, dull eyes, seeming to mock the world, mock Death itself that ironically dragged him into her mysterious universe, shattering a family. Ron pictured George - that surely was killing as much Death Eaters as he could, without any care in the world or afterthoughts - his face screwed up into a vicious grimace, silent tears rolling down his cheeks and tracing clear patters in his dust covered visage.

He couldn't help but feel the intense and heavy pressure and weight of Death on his shoulders as he passed by dozens and dozens of corpses, probably his _friends_, laying on a pool of their own blood, livid and cold, their blank eyes starring at a sky that only they could behold, sometimes missing an arm, a leg... Was this "Fate" ? Was it the tragic, invisible, instopable and powerful Fate who was playing with those brave souls, reducing them to pawns on its cruel and sickning chessbord, for Death to finaly come and put cold chaines around their necks, dragging them down in its world ?

However, he _knew_ that for them to win this war, it was unavoidable to make sacrifices. The fact that he just stepped on a puddle of blood, the view of the corpses and his previous thought made him want to throw up, and he struggled to suppress the urge.

He thought about Bill, Fleur, Charlie, his mom and dad, little innocent Teddy… about each of his loved ones, terrified, expecting the worst. He brought the hand that wasn't holding Hermione's to his aching heart, crushing desperately the fabric of his shirt as if the simple gesture could heal the gaping wound the resent events left in his chest, as if it could heal the anguish drowning him.

And truthfully, it was all too much for his emotional capacity of a teaspoon.

With the skill that only experience and multiple battles could give, he side stepped to avoid a curse, threw another one without lowering his pace, and took a sharp turn to the left.

A faint squeeze on his hand reminded him that everything around them was _indeed_ happening. And as a result of the press of Hermione's tiny hand in his, his thoughts led him to a fragile zone and he found himself distracted by _his _girl, because now, after all of what happened to them and the hated kiss they shared in the Room of Requirement, he just _knew _that she was _his at last_. His best friend and so much more. The bushy haired girl that he'd known since he was eleven. The annoying and bossy know-it-all he held so dear to him. The beautiful young women she'd grown to be and was currently running behind him, dueling with all her faith, all her bravery, all her heart, to create, too, the brighter world she believed in, to let her dreams leave the silent shadows of her partly broken universe and bloom in a bright new light. The girl he vowed to protect, to live and die for, to do everything to let her truthful smile light the world.

He abruptly stopped, and therefore, Hermione crashed into his back.

" Ow !

- Sorry, you alright?

- Why did you stop? " asked Hermione, curious and at the same time a little bit annoyed at his suddent move. Ron turned to face her and opened his mouth to speak, but the words never left the barrier of his lips.

"Crucio !"

And he fell to the floor, screaming in agony, feeling as if a million of hot needles pierced each one of his cells, and the Death Eater, delighted at the view before him, shouted in obvious joy, hatred shining in his eyes, a sadistic smile forming on his lips:

"Crusio !" The intense pain brought tears to his eyes, as his torturer's laughter swam their way to his ears, echoing in his head. Hermione watched in horror as Ron suffered before her eyes, opening her mouth without any word coming from it. Her mind seemed to register what was happening as she spotted Dolohov, his wand raised, in a dark corner.

"CRUCIO !" The cruciatus curse, this time, came from the parted lips of Hermione with an astonishing intensity. Her chest raising and falling rapidly, her wand still aiming at Dolohov, his body shaking in violent spasms, she took a step forward.

"CRUSIO !" She didn't even seem to feel her tears flowing freely from her eyes, as she took another step, her mind clouded in an uncharacteristic wave of emotions, blinded by pain, hatred and unconsicious vengeance, her heart pounding against her rib cage, threatening to break free.

"It feels bad, doesn't it? Uh? CRUCIO !"

Dolohov yelled out his pain, while the brunette hissed:

"_Avada…_

- Hermione, stop it, now."

The stern voice of Ron pulled her back into reality, and her eyes widened in fear, alarm and shock as she came back to her senses and measured the weight of the word that escaped from her mouth … Was she about to _kill_ ?

"Stupefy!"

Ron, back to his feet, yet shaking, trembling from the the pain he suffered and was still present, like a fresh, open wound, finished off the work while Hermione hurried mindlessly toward him, forgetting about the Death Eater laying on the ground, the one she _tortured_, the one she was about to _murder._

"Ron are you okay ?

- Yeah… Did I told you how glad I am not being your enemy?" he said nodding toward Dolohov.

_Did he just… had the nerve to crack a… joke? _

_The bloke's mad._

"Seriously, try to avoid being carried away by your pain, Hermione, I know you'll regret it after." Amazed, she kept her mouth open a few seconds before answering: "Am I not the one who's supposed to be rational and calm and all?"

He smiled weakly, but his face froze in an anguished grimace, as a spell hit his leg from behind, before falling partly on Hermione, his feet hardly supporting him anymore, his eyes half-closed.

"Ron !"

She frantically searched for the responsible, in a wide move of her haid that caused her hair to escape from her ponytail, in vain.

"A classroom…" Hermione vaguely nodded her head at Ron's word, and she tried with all her being to support his weight and lead him toward a near classroom, his arm around her shoulders, and her arms around his waist.

"Ron, don't close your eyes ! You heard me ? She said in a bossy tone, a little bit lost, worry and fear obvious in her voice.

- Yes ma'am…"

She opened the door with a kick of her foot, and was relived to discover that the room was empty and untouched by the war going on outside. She set him down against a wall near the door, and aimed her wand to the lock:

"Colloportus. Cave inimicum. Silencio." The lock emitted a little "click", while she felt the magic operate, protecting them from unwanted intruders. She then kneeled down beside him and took his head in her hands:

" Where are you hurt ?

- I'm sore everywhere from the cruciatus curse." Ron whispered back.

She ran her thumb tenderly over the many cuts on his face, then removed the trail of red liquid running down his chin with her left sleeve. Shaking from head to toe, with her hands always on his cheeks, she leaned and kissed his forehead. Before her eyes, full of unshed tears that threatened to break free, everything was a blur, which annoyed her because she was searching for unseen injuries. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Ron closing his eyes, surrendering to pain.

"Don't! I told you not to close your eyes."

Now that the adrenaline left his body, no longer burning with the fire of the fight, he was feeling more and more drained by the seconds. She couldn't blame him, but he _had_ to stay awake! He tiredly opened them, to find two troubled pools of chocolate staring back at him. A set of eyes that held such sadness, such pain…Two eyes that had seen much more than what she was supposed to see.

" I won't…

- Talk to me.

- k, how are you this fine day Miss Granger ? Personally I'm not much, I've just been aimed at by a Death Eater who has a big resemblance with Graup. I'm sure he stinks like him.

- Really?

- yeah, you could have saved me if you used your bids thingy. Those are dangerous weapons I swear."

She erupted in laughter, an empty, hollow laugh that sounded too wrong coming from her mouth. Tears were now soaking her cheeks. He was laying there, injured, and she was the one who was supposed to confort him. Yet_ he_ was the one trying desperatly to confort _her_. _Git too selfless for his own good_.

However, what she didn't seem to know is that Ron wasn't being _selfless_, but_ selfish_ as he tried to make her laught, the sight of her crying being unberable and adding more emotional pain to his physical one. And he didn't need to feel more hurt.

" Hermione, I won't leave you. Ever. As long as you can stand me of course."

Ron somewhat felt the need to tell her that, to assure that he'd be beside her for as long as she wanted him near her, to confess in an indirect way his feelings for her as they'd grown to powerful to handle and keep silent. And Ron knew. Knew that Hermione understood the hidden and deep meaning of his words, all the intensity of his feelings, everything that he so badly wanted to say, but couldn't because it sounded too much like a farewell to his ears.

She finally removed her hands from his face.

"A spell hit you in the back. Did it hurt you in any way?

- It's nothing that I can't manage."

As he rose to his feet, a violent pain shot from his left leg, contradicting his words. He leaned against the cold wall, sliding down it.

"Afterthought, I think it broke something.

- Uh? Where ?

- My left leg."

Hermione, shaking, pointed her wand toward where he said was injured.

"I think I know this spell… but… I don't… oh I'm shaking too much !" She half shouted, annoyed by her own stat of what she considered was weakness. With two fingers, he lifted her head softly to face his and with a reassuring smile, his pupils shining with trust, he whispers: " you'll do it right, like you always do, you pretty much prove it every day, you being bossy and know-it-all and all…"

Outraged, Hermione slapped his shoulder, but he is proud to see her lip twitch upward for the briefest moment. He held her armed hand and guided her, while nodding toward him, she spoke softly :

"- Episkey

- OW !"

He stood, pulling her along with him. Ron jumped, testing his legs. A look of realization appeared on Hermione's face and her mind seemed to function correctly again. She shot Ron a death glare and without any more warning she threw herself at him, hitting him anywhere she could reach.

" OW! Stop…STOP ! …wha'did I …BlOODY HELL! What did I DO this TIME ?

- you stupid…ignorant…little BASTARD !

- uh?"

The unexpected outburst left him dumbfounded, and with much trouble he managed to catch her wrist. She immediately jerked back, and he was overwhelmed by a big sense of déjà-vu. Hermione in one of her crisis is never good, but Hermione swearing literally equals to an upcoming apocalypse.

_She's mad. I'm a dead man._

But was it really the moment for one of their legendary rows?

"Why the BLOODY HELL did you stop back there ?"

And, like a tons of bricks, all of his previous worries fell upon him.

"Harry.

I beg your _pardon ?_

Harry. He's not here, he's been out of sight for a while now. And I know he's not with Ginny. Do you think he's being his heroic and dramatic self again ? Hermione smiled for a second when Ron described their shared best friend.

Wait…you don't think…

Yeah, he's off doing something incredibly selfless and incredibly dumb again. I should've known. _Shit. _I'm going to find him.

You're right. We should split up, it'll…

You're not going.

I'm sorry _what _?"

He'd made his decision in a blink of an eye, and his resolve laws unbreakable.

"You're not…

I don't bloody CARE!"

Some of her brown locks escaped from her already messy ponytail. Her eyes were throwing daggers and she was gesticulating widely, her noise raised I the air in disdain. She looked like she might strangle him. Ron took two step back.

" I AM coming, like it or NOT ! he's my best friend as much as he is yours. I'm capable of taking care of myself! I'm not surrendering after all I went under.

- You're not surrendering, you're staying safe for a while.

- Enough, I've had enough of you and your bloody habit of over protecting me and putting me aside!"

She was panting. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for a reply, daring Ron to say otherwise.

"It's so us to start a row in the middle of a war. All you have to do now is to storm to the library."

To irritated to even smile at his lame attempt to calm her down, she hissed:

"You said, you're not leaving me. Is that a lie? _again_?

Don't you understand that I'm bloody _trying _to protect you ?"

That was it. He wasn't leaving her. He was protecting her until he came back with Harry. Searching for him meant to directly run toward the most dangerous and unstable zone of the war. He's not letting her put herself into MORE dangers. She signed, and parted her lips to speak again. But she was interrupted by Ron's lips on hers. She tried to break free from his grip, but as he pressed his body to hers she gave up and closed her eyes.

The kiss was urgent, desperate, betraying all o Ron's feelings, fears and insecurities. They kissed, like there was no tomorrow, trying to find hope in each other's arms, with frantic movement of their lips. She parted hers in a obvious invitation and they lost their senses. He lifted her from the ground and she wrapped her legs around him. They paused, breaking apart for the smallest moment before leaning again for more, kissing as hungrily, as passionately, as violently as before, her hands on her cheeks bringing him closer, and his on her back.

They parted, and touching her forehead with his, he spoke : "I'm not leaving you. Wait for me and cast protection charms. I'll bring back Harry."

Her feet touched the floor, and still lightheaded, she stood still, enable to move. Swallowing-hard, before his waiting and anxious eyes, she finally moved her head, reluctantly nodding, defeated. He kissed her forehead and headed for the door.

"You have 45 min, past that time, I'll go after you. Understood?"

He was about to speak when she cut him : "you have no say in that, Ronald Bilius Weasley"

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled darkly before adding :

"Reckon you'll never change, always the bossy know-it-all. You're scary. Brilliant, but scary."

With that he opened the door and with a little yelp, he shot a stunning curse. Somewhat, despite the sounds of the ongoing war, she heard him mutter: "Bloody hell, what does it always has to be fucking _spiders _?"

She smiled sadly, before casting spells all over the room. You could think that Ron would forget his phobia, but no, Ron would always be Ron. Some things never changed.

Sitting on the cold, grey stones hugging her knees to her chest, she was counting back the seconds, her head full with the ridiculous amount of reasons why Ron hadn't came back yet. When the frightening voice of Voldemort echoed in her head, she hurried to cancel the spells around her and opened the door to find her redhead running toward her. And they both read in the eyes of the other the fear to lose someone so dear to them, their best friend; they read the anticipation, the fright of facing what could be the end of their world. Yet, they both saw, the sparkle of hope shining, the fire of the Griffindor spirit, the courage, and the bravery. And they both _knew_ what they had to do, what they had to make sure of, now, together.

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><p><strong>TADA ! Thank you for reading, don't forget to review ;)<strong>


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